


Let's Make a Deal

by ami_ven



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Supernatural (TV) Fusion, Community: mcsheplets, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 20:09:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11089020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ami_ven/pseuds/ami_ven
Summary: SupernaturalAU – John is a hunter and Rodney is the crossroads demon who bargains for his soul.





	Let's Make a Deal

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ community "mcsheplets" prompt #255 "crossroads"

John didn’t even know what had made him think of it, behind enemy lines in the middle of a minor sandstorm. But Holland was fading fast, their helicopter was inoperable, and there was nothing else that could be done.

He wasn’t sure he believed in crazy mumbo-jumbo like this, anyway, and if he did, didn’t know if his scrounged ingredients would work – the box was actually an empty ammo case, the picture was his military ID, it was the bone of a black cow (at least, he thought the charred animal in the bombed-out farm had been a cow) and this was not exactly a crossroads, just an open space between improvised landing zones, although the graveyard dirt, from the tiny plot by the leveled barn was genuine – until the swirling sand turned back and settled into the shape of a man.

“What the hell is this?” the man muttered, in English, and snapped his fingers. Instantly, the sand retreated, as though held back by an invisible force for about two meters around where they stood. “That’s better.”

“You’re…” said John.

The man scowled. “—a very busy demon. Are you going to make a deal or not?”

“You’re real?” John managed. “A crossroads demon?”

“Yes, yes,” the man – demon – said. “Well?”

“I— yes,” said John. “I want a deal.”

“Great,” said the demon. “Most standard deals are ten years. You get whatever you wish for – fame, money, power, whatever – and in ten years, I get your soul. Yes, you will die and yes, it will be very painful. Now, what do you want?”

“I—” John said again. “I want Holland to live. To survive, uninjured, and make it back to our base and an honorable discharge, and live a long life.”

The demon’s eyes flashed black. “If this is Holland,” he said, indicating where John’s friend was, indeed, laying inside their crashed helicopter, “then he is nearly dead. A reaper is already on the way.”

“Look, can you make the deal or not?” John demanded.

“Yes, but it will cost more. Convincing a Reaper to turn back is… difficult.”

John could hear Holland’s ragged breathing, and closed his eyes. “Fine,” he said. “Fine. Deal.”

“Deal,” the demon repeated. “The human you call Holland will live, healthy and happy and whatnot. And in two years, your soul is mine. Now, we seal the contract.”

“Sure,” said John, mind whirling. “You got a pen.”

“Not that kind of deal,” said the demon, and before John knew what had happened, he was being kissed, a firm but chaste press of lips. “Two years, John Sheppard.”

Then, he was gone – and John heard Holland call his name.

*

The second time John buried a box at the crossroad, he knew exactly what he was doing. All of his ingredients were correct, planted in the exact center of the dirt crossroads outside of town. He stood, waiting, then let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding when a familiar figure appeared.

“You again?”

“Hey, there,” John grinned.

The demon scowled. “You already made a deal, human. And since you only have one soul, I can’t make you another.”

“Oh, I know,” said John. “I just… I wasn’t sure it was real. I was pretty dehydrated and just about running on fumes.”

“A deal is binding,” said the demon, crossing his arms. “Regardless of your condition at the time.”

“No, that’s fine,” said John. “I’ll keep my end. But I was a little fuzzy on the details – Holland will be fine, right? You come for _my_ soul, and you leave his family out of this?”

“That was the deal,” he said. “You’re free to tell anyone you’d like, or keep it entirely to yourself. You have time to set your affairs in order, say goodbye to your loved ones, whatever.”

John nodded. “Good. That’s… good. I guess I’ll see you in two years, then, buddy.”

“Yes,” the demon said, slowly. “Yes, you will.”

Then, he vanished. 

John took a deep breath, then went to dig up the demon-summoning box – he might need it again.

*

The box was slightly more battered the second time John buried it, but the frustrated scowl was exactly the same.

“I am a very busy man,” the demon groused. “What do you want now?”

John leaned against a tree at the edge of the road, hands in his pockets. “Kinda need your help.”

“My _help_?” the demon repeated. “You do remember our chat about ‘one soul, one deal’, right? Unless your friend there is really the one who wants to bargain?”

“I am not,” snapped Teyla.

After John had been discharged – an honorable one, but just barely – he’d taken a few civilian flying jobs. But catering to the whims of rich businessmen reminded John far too much of his childhood and by the end of six months he’d ended up blacklisted from every piloting job and just about out of funds, grounded and pretty much permanently hungover on a large but sparcely-populated tropical island called Athos that he’d never have been able to find on a map, even back when he’d been sober.

Teyla had saved his life, literally and metaphorically. 

Either dealing with the supernatural left some kind of mark or John was just naturally unlucky, because he’d stumbled back to his surf hut after a day on the beach to find three oddly pale men waiting for him. He’d been halfway through telling them to clear off when they’d attacked, with teeth and claws that no human would have. Honestly, John hadn’t fought that hard – his life was over in less than two years, what did it matter if it happened a little sooner? – but then Teyla had been there, decapitating his attackers with deadly grace.

She called them Wraith. The musty-smelling book he found in an antique shop a few weeks later called them vampires, but whatever they were called, they had plagued this island for centuries, hibernating for years at a time, then stealing random people to drain them dry. Teyla’s people did their best to hide from them, but as more loved ones were taken, some wanted to fight. John had figured that the best he could do with the time he had left was to help her out, and they’d been traveling together ever since.

“Teyla’s not the deal-making type,” John drawled, now, hands back in his pockets as he ambled toward the demon.

“Then our business is done, Sheppard.”

“Now, hang on. There’s other things to trade besides souls.”

The demon regarded him. “It could be helpful to have a couple of hunters owe me a favor. What do you want?”

John smiled. “How about we start with a name? Since you know mine.”

“McKay,” the demon said, sounding a little surprised. “Rodney McKay.”

“Cool,” said John. “What can you tell us about vampires…?”

*

“What?” demanded McKay, appearing in a puff of smoke almost as soon as John had buried the summoning box.

John grinned. “Hey, Rodney.”

“You have literally already sold me your soul, Sheppard,” the demon continued. “What can you possibly want now?”

“Don’t want anything,” the hunter said. “I brought you a present.”

“I – you – what?”

John laughed and held out the cell phone. “Here. So I don’t have to keep finding a crossroad every time I want to have a conversation.”

“As if I’d take your calls,” McKay scoffed, but he put the phone into the pocket of his suit jacket. “Was that all you needed?”

“That depends,” said John. “Do you have time to come in for a beer?”

“What?” the demon repeated.

“Beer,” said John. “Humans have been drinking it since the dawn of time, so I know they had it when you were alive.”

McKay grumbled, “I really have better things to do,” but followed him into the tent. 

The Athosians had a city near the coast, but they had once been nomadic, and had adapted their traditional methods to modern materials, making beautiful and spacious tents that folded up into a light-weight pack. Immediately after a fight, John often missed running water, but the rest of the time, his tent felt more at home than any house or barracks ever had.

“I’ve only been dead for a few years,” said McKay, as John rummaged around in his cooler. “Including the time I’ve been a demon, I’m no older than you.”

“Yeah?” said John, with an appraising look, then shook his head as he handed over a bottle of local homebrew. “And you couldn’t have picked a nicer looking meatsuit?”

The demon huffed. “This is my original body. I made that part of the contract – I did my homework, thank you very much, major.”

“Not a major anymore,” said John, and took a swig of his own beer.

They sat in silence for a moment, then McKay asked, “Have you heard from your friend? The one you saved?”

“I – yeah,” said John. Cell phones worked on the island, but the signal didn’t always make it out. John and Teyla stopped in to New Athos about once a month, and he usually had a message from Holland waiting at the motel. “Yeah, he’s doing great. Sends me pictures of his kid.”

“Good, good,” said McKay. “Because you can’t go back on a crossroads deal.”

“I know.”

“Good.” The demon took a long sip of his beer. “Just making sure.”

“Don’t know what you want my soul for, anyway,” the hunter said. “Can’t be much of it left at this point.”

McKay blinked at him. “I always forget humans can’t see them. Yours is… I may not have been collecting souls for that long myself, but I’ve seen plenty and yours is one of the purest I’ve seen.”

John snorted into his bottle. “Not likely.”

“Feel free not to believe me, major,” said McKay. “In one year, five months and three days, it will be mine, anyway.”

“Right”

The demon drained his beer and handed the bottle back to John. “Thank you for the beer, but I have very important business to get back to,” he said, and vanished.

John snorted again, a laugh this time. “Demons have manners,” he said, to himself. “Who knew?”

*

“ _McKay_.”

“Hey, Rodney.”

“ _What do you want, Sheppard?_ ”

“Can’t a guy just call to say hello to a friend?”

“ _A guy, maybe, but not you. And we’re not friends. I don’t even know why I answered._ ”

“Aw, c’mon, McKay, you know you like me.”

“ _I do not. Now, what is it?_ ”

“I – ow, crap – any advice about wendigos?”

“ _Wendigos? I thought you were hunting vampires!_ ”

“I was. But the wendigo was hunting me. Advice, Rodney?”

“ _Where’s Teyla? Isn’t she with you?_ ”

“She went home to see an old friend, and I figured I could handle it myself.”

“ _Well, you figured wrong!_ ”

“Not really helping McKay!”

“ _Fire, you need fire. Do you have any lighter fluid?_ ”

“No, but I – ow! – I have a flare gun.”

“ _That’ll work._ ”

“Ha! Take that you—”

“ _Sheppard? Sheppard! John!?_ ”

“I’m here! I’m… just a little out of breath. That did the trick, Rodney, thanks.”

“ _That was – I don’t – be more careful next time, idiot!_ ”

“Hey, if I get myself killed, doesn’t that just mean you get to collect on my soul a little earlier?”

“ _No! I mean, yes, technically. But that would also, technically, be a breach of contract on my part and would mean far too much paperwork._ ”

“I’ll try not to die early, then. Thanks again, buddy.”

“ _I – Yes, whatever. Don’t call me again._ ”

*

“How’d you become a demon, anyway?” asked John. “Am I going to be one, after you collect my soul?”

They were both sitting at the base of a tree, the hunter sprawled against its trunk, beer bottle dangling from one hand, and the demon sitting neatly cross-legged beside him.

“No, your soul will go to hell,” said Rodney, matter-of-factly, sipping his own beer. “When you make a crossroads deal, your soul belongs to the demon you made the deal with. Souls are like a currency, in hell. The more souls a demon controls, the more respect.”

“And how many do you have?”

“Including yours? One.”

“One?” John repeated. “That’s it?”

Rodney scowled. “I’m not interested in demonic pissing contests, unlike the other idiots down there. I told you, major, I knew exactly what I was doing when I made my deal. I had ten years of brilliant scientific achievement, a fabulous well-paying job right out of college, write-ups in every decent science journal. Even the demon I dealt with couldn’t guarantee a Nobel – something about rival jurisdictions – but I was practically a household name, in the scientific community.”

“That was worth your soul?” asked John.

“I was young and egotistical,” the demon snapped. “We can’t all be as selfless as you, major.”

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean…” John reached over to bump Rodney’s elbow with the back of his hand. “I’m not judging, McKay.”

“Well,” he huffed. “It _was_ worth it. Some of my discoveries are now taught in schools. And as a demon, I don’t need to eat or sleep, and I can spend almost literally all my time on my work. It’s a little trickier to be published now that I’m legally dead, but it’s possible. My only ‘demonic duty’ was being available for someone seeking a deal. Which I managed to avoid until _you_ came along.”

“Sorry about that, buddy,” said John. 

“You should be,” Rodney said – then, “You got any more beer?”

*

John rolled out of bed before he was even half-awake, heart pounding. Somehow, he had his phone in his hand, but didn’t realize he’d dialed until it started to ring.

“ _McKay._ ”

“Rodney?”

The demon huffed on the other end of the line. “ _You called me, Sheppard. What do you want?_ ”

“I – nothing,” said John. “I was just – you don’t – I’m fine.”

“ _Yeah, you sound fine_ ,” said Rodney. “ _Stay where you are._ ”

“What? Why? I’m not—”

There was a click, then a flash of smoke, and Rodney appeared next to him. “Just because I don’t sleep doesn’t mean you can call me at all hours,” he grumbled, taking the phone from John’s trembling fingers and ending the call. He tossed it on John’s pack, and sat on the end of the cot, “I really have more important things to do.”

“So you keep saying,” John managed, but his heart was still pounding.

“Some things bear repeating. Where’s Teyla?”

John blinked. “Asleep. Unless you’ve woken her up with your complaining.”

“Asleep?” Rodney repeated, looking at the wall of John’s tent, as though he’d be able to see through it and to Teyla’s – for a moment, John thought maybe he _could_ , until he remembered that she had pitched it on his other side. “Then what did you call me for?”

“I… I don’t know,” the hunter admitted. “I didn’t know I _had_ called you until you picked up. So, sorry, I guess.”

“No, that’s…” said Rodney. He cleared his throat, then stood, careful to avoid the roof of the tent. “Well, major, I can see you’re in no danger. If there’s nothing else…”

John took a deep breath. “Do you really have more important things to do?” he asked, much less evenly than he’d intended.

The demon paused. “No,” he admitted. “Nothing I can’t postpone for a few hours.”

“Good,” said John. “That’s… you want a beer?”

“Sure,” Rodney said, and sat back down. “Where do you even get these?”

John handed him a bottle. “Teyla’s friend Halling brews it. Pretty good, huh?”

“Not bad,” the demon said.

“Sure,” said John, and his smile was small but genuine.

*

“ _McKay_.”

“Hey, Rodney!”

“ _Sheppard?_ ”

“Expecting someone else?”

“ _No, but you sound… Are you drunk?_ ”

“Little bit. Got a question for you.”

“ _You’re not out hunting, are you?_ ”

“You do care about me.”

“ _We did talk about how much paperwork it would be if you get yourself killed before our deal is finished._ ”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m not hunting. Teyla and I were just hanging out with some of her people – we cleared out a Wraith nest yesterday and they’re having a party for us! And we were wondering…”

“ _Wondering what?_ ”

“You can, like, pop in and out and stuff. Can you take other people with you? Humans, I mean?”

“ _I suppose. I can’t say I’ve ever tried myself, but I know other demons who have. Why?_ ”

“Just wondering. Hey, Rodney, this is a great party. You should come!”

“ _I don’t think so._ ”

“C’mon, why not?”

“ _I’m not the party type, major, and I don’t really think I’d be welcome._ ”

“But—”

“ _Enjoy your victory, Sheppard._

*

John had beheaded three of the Wraith before statistics caught up with him. He’d been training with the Bantos blades since he met Teyla, but while he was a bit taller and a bit stronger than she was, he still hadn’t achieved the seamless mastery she always displayed.

The fourth Wraith used surprise to its advantage and attacked on his left, claws digging deep into John’s ribs. Teyla was right behind him, finishing off the last Wraith after taking out four already, and John collapsed, clutching his side.

Teyla knelt beside him, looking worried. Her hands rustled his clothes and he thought she was checking for injuries, until she found his phone.

“No, this is Teyla,” she said, to whoever she’d just called with it. “John is hurt, please come quickly.”

John blinked, confused, but then Rodney appeared, looking frantic. “What is it?” he demanded. “How did this happen?”

“We were outnumbered,” said Teyla. “He is losing blood quickly. Do something.”

“Like what?” said Rodney, but he knelt on John’s other side, his hand warm against John’s shoulder. “I’m not that kind of doctor.”

“You must have some abilities.”

“Not healing ones,” he protested. “I can keep a body functioning if I’m possessing it, but I can’t heal him.”

“I – I’m fine,” John panted. “I—”

“Be quiet,” they both snapped.

Teyla was pressing her jacket to his side. “Acquire transportation, at least,” she said. “We must get him to the hospital.”

“Yes, the hospital!” Despite what Rodney said about not being able to heal, John felt his pain lessening as Rodney clutched his arm. “Hold his other hand, tightly.”

“What?” John began, then there was a jolt and he was moving, staring up at a clean white ceiling as he was rolled along on some kind of gurney. “Hey!”

“You’re fine,” said Rodney, still holding his hand. “Carson, I have a patient for you.”

“What the hell, Rodney?” asked a voice, with a Scottish accent.

John couldn’t see the man, but a new set of hands settled over Teyla’s, pulling her jacket away from his injured side. 

“Not this time, Carson,” said Rodney. “He’s human.”

“We were attacked,” Teyla added. “It was—”

“A vampire, by the look of it,” said the man, Carson. “Aye, lass, I’m aware of them. Rodney, take her back to the waiting room. I’ll patch up your friend.”

“Hear that, John?” said Rodney. He leaned over the gurney, into John’s field of vision, but John could already feel consciousness slipping away. “You’re going to be fine. Right, Carson.”

“Yes, Rodney. He’ll be…”

And Rodney was still holding his hand when John passed out.

*

“ _McKay_.”

“Hey, Rodney.”

“ _You’re supposed to be resting, Sheppard_.”

“It’s been two whole weeks since that Wraith got me. I’m going stir crazy.”

“ _And you thought harassing me would alleviate your boredome?_ ”

“It’s working so far! Actually, I’m at the library.”

“ _That tiny island has a library?_ ”

“Don’t let Teyla hear you say that. New Athos City is a thriving and modern metropolis.”

“ _Yes, yes, I’m sure it’s lovely._ ”

“Anyway, I’ve been looking through their research on supernatural creatures. Interesting stuff.”

“ _And you needed to share this information with me why?_ ”

“Because you’re a guy who likes information. Seems there was a chapter of some secret organization a couple of islands over, and a bunch of their records ended up here. Old stuff, from around World War Two, but they sound like your kind of guys. Wrote down everything.”

“ _Like what?_ ”

“Experiments and observations. There were some good ideas for tracking vampires – I’ve already copied those pages – and one that I thought might interest _you_ , McKay. How to cure a demon.”

“ _You can’t cure a demon, major._ ”

“According to these guys, you can. It doesn’t even sound that complicated, once you get all the stuff you need blessed and consecrated and stuff.”

“ _And did you maybe find any_ real _information?_ ”

“The library’s open to the public, McKay, you can come see for yourself.”

“ _My time is much too valuable to waste on sorting through fifty-year-old nonsense._ ”

“More for me, then.”

“ _Did you actually have a reason for calling, Sheppard?_ ”

“Not really. But Teyla won’t let us take a hunt for another week, so I’ve got nothing but time.”

“ _Go back to your reading, major._ ”

“I’ll call back if I find anything cool.”

“ _Of course you will…_ ”

*

John tried to sit patiently while Carson – Dr. Beckett, an entirely human and fully licensed medical professional – completed his exam.

“Aye, that’s healing up nicely,” he said. “Try to take it easy for another day or two, then you and Miss Emmagan can resume your regular activities.”

“Thanks, doc,” said John, pulling his shirt back on. The movement didn’t hurt, and he took that as a good sign. “I’ll go make sure McKay hasn’t paced a hole in your waiting room floor.”

“He’s a good lad, for all that he’s a demon,” said Carson. “But he’s never brought me a patient before.”

“Seems to avoid people,” John agreed. “How do you know him?”

“From before,” the doctor said. “I was doing my residency near to Rodney’s university, and he was something of a hypochondriac.”

John smiled. “I can imagine.”

“He’s an acquired taste, for sure. He was even before he made this deal. I’m glad he’s found a friend like you.”

“Did he tell you about the deal I made with him?” John asked, softly.

The doctor nodded. “Yes, he did. I can understand why you did it, both of you, but I can’t help wishing there was another way.”

“Yeah,” said John, with a sigh. “Yeah, me, too.”

*

John woke to a soft knock on the frame of his tent. He shoved his feet into his perpetually-untied boots and came out, knife in hand – only to lower immediately.

“Rodney?”

The demon stood a few feet away, looking nervous. “Sheppard,” he said. “About our deal.”

“I’ve still got three days,” said John, slowly. “You said there’d be too much paperwork for either of us to end it early.”

“Yes, I know,” said Rodney. “But…”

John sheathed his knife and came forward to curl a hand around Rodney’s elbow. “Hey,” he said. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I have never regretted my deal,” Rodney began. “I got everything I wanted. Yes, maybe dying wasn’t so much fun, but it was over pretty quick, and being a demon has been, for the most part, unquestionably better than being human.”

“Okay,” said John. “So, what’s the problem.”

Rodney looked up at him. “I don’t want to take your soul, John.”

“Okay,” the hunter repeated. “But you have to. Our deal—”

“Would be void,” said Rodney. “If I was human.”

“Rodney…”

“Your friend would be fine, or at least, as fine as he is right now. If I’m not a demon, I can’t collect, but you’d still have intended to hold up your end.”

“ _Rodney_ …”

“You said there was a cure. You said you found it.”

“Yeah, I did,” said John. “But it was experimental, they only tested a few demons and it only worked once. I can’t let you risk that.”

“I’m not giving you the choice,” Rodney protested. “I didn’t – I was a terrible human, I realize that now. I didn’t know I could… could _care_ about people, until you. And what I feel, if it’s like this now, when I’m a demon… what will it feel like if I could be human again?”

John took a step closer, grip tightening on Rodney’s elbow. “What do you feel?” he asked, softly.

“I think I love you,” Rodney admitted.

“Good,” said John, and kissed him, long and hard.

“That’s,” Rodney said, when they broke for air. “I was really hoping I was right about that. Because I was bad at reading people when I was one.”

John laughed, pressing their foreheads together. “Nah, you got that one right.” He took a deep breath. “Are you sure about this?”

“I’m sure,” said Rodney.

“Okay,” said John. “Okay. Help me pack. We’ll need to be in town for this.”

Rodney kissed him again, briefly. “Okay.”

*

“Be patient, John,” said Teyla, resting a hand on his arm. “It will be over shortly, and all will be well.”

“I know,” he said, but couldn’t take his eyes off the door where Halling was administering the last dose of blessed blood to Rodney, the dose that would either make him human again – or kill him. “I know.”

She smiled. “Spells of this type often rely on the subject’s own strength. And I am certain that Rodney is strong enough to complete this.”

“Yeah,” John agreed, managing a smile of his own. “He is pretty stubborn.”

“Then you are well-matched,” she said.

Just then, the door opened, and Halling stepped out. “It has succeeded,” he said, before John could even ask. “He is weak, but fully human.”

“Go to him, John,” added Teyla.

He grinned, pausing to clap Halling’s shoulder before he darted into the room.

Rodney sat in the wooden chair set inside the devil’s trap. The restraints had been opened, but he was slumped against the chair’s back, breathing hard.

“Hey,” John said, softly. “How ya feeling, buddy?”

“Human,” said Rodney, voice hoarse. He stood, a little shakily, but stepped over the edge of the devil’s trap, grinning. “ _Human_.”

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m hungry,” Rodney said. “And I want to kiss you.”

John laughed. “How about burgers and beer?” he said. “I’m buying.”

“Sure,” said Rodney.

“And for the record,” John added, pulling him close. “My soul is still yours.”

“How about we make a new deal?” the other man countered. “Your soul’s not so useful to me now. But I could make a nice offer for your heart?”

John grinned and kissed him. “Hell, yes.”

THE END


End file.
